Chyna: Warrior Princess - The Final Saga
by Rocket-Strife
Summary: The sixth saga. Faced with the prospect of an invasion from Ric Flair and the Nitro Troglydytes, crucifixition and some badly aimed 'infinite love', Chyna's feeling a little depressed. Could the end be near? (Now complete)
1. The Wall

Chyna: Warrior Princess  
  
Episode XVII: The Wall  
  
Disclaimer: The Characters depicted here are property of Titan Sports and Vince. No copyright infringement intended.  
  
  
  
In a time of ancient gods, warlords and kings, a land in turmoil cried out for a hero. She was Chyna, a mighty she-male forged in the heat of low- blows. The power…the passion…the danger…her courage will save or destroy the world, either way.  
  
As you might remember from the previous episode, Chyna: Warrior Princess had some funky adventures in Egypt, where she had followed prick boy Jericho, and had absolutely zilch success in ripping his head off. Kitty got bitchy, Jericho turned out to be the Messiah and Chyna learned that infinite love was out to screw her over. She also happened to battle Trish Stratuspatra in an epic cat-fight, but alas, she and our savior got away – and the Warrior Princess is not happy!  
  
Chyna's jaw clenched as she thrashed about in her nightmare, her hands flailing about in an unconscious desire to grab any available weapon and lay out the sidekick she sometimes called friend who was just sitting by, letting her get screwed over by her dark side, over consumption of alcohol and loko weed. Ever since that fateful day in Egypt, Kitty hadn't bothered trying to be nice anymore; she'd let her suffer through every single one of her bad dreams. It really did piss her off.  
  
There was a lot of wailing going on in this dream; upon further review she realized that somehow Billy Gunn had managed to get himself inside her vision, and inexplicably she was clutching lustily at his forbidden fruits with a vicious testicular claw. She sighed, released him and watched as he disappeared in a puff of pink smoke. So much for that. The colors she was seeing flashing before her were probably the result of snorting ambrosia, or so she figured, despite the fact the last time she did that was when she and H.B.K had been having their 'We're so much better than the Savior of this planet' party last week – still, it was potent shit. Either that or Kitty was lacing her food – she wouldn't put it past her. Whoops, Billy is back. What's with the dance he's doing? Maybe that's the key. Maybe I'm going to kill him now. Maybe he's gay, minus the maybe. Problem was, nowadays she could never tell whether she was having visions which were a key to taking down the Messiah Jericho, or whether she was tripping along merrily through a haze of henbane smoke and eating too much cheese before bed. Billy's hair was glowing again; it always inexplicably glowed in the dark, something to do with the sheep dip he was dying with – and now the pair of luscious lips smack bang on his ass were giving a pretty good strobe light effect too. Groovy.  
  
Hunter hadn't actually shown up in the nightmare yet; Chyna muttered and looked at one of the many sundials melting all around her impatiently. She never really got the deal with all the melting sundials and disproportionate horsies. Ah, there was Hunter…in a pink frilly apron?  
  
He scrunched up his face. "I love YOU, Chy-NA!"  
  
***  
  
Chyna sat up in a cold sweat. Kitty looked over from where she was making some suspicious looking cookies. "You okay Chyna?"  
  
"Like it would've killed you to ask me that before Hunter told me he loved me!!!" Chyna shrieked, clutching at her head. Hunter, from where he was grazing, looked up and gave a whiny sounding snort. Chyna flipped the horse off. "Quiet you. What I did to these camels will be nothing compared to what I'll do to you if you ever find you way into my visions and say something so disgusting again."  
  
"Lay off the cheeses before bed, Chyna." Kitty pouted. "And take a bath. You stink."  
  
"I do NOT stink!" Chyna snapped rather defensively. "And stop getting close enough to smell me! I woke up will dribble down my cleavage two days ago and it damn sure wasn't mine!"  
  
"Maybe it was Hunter's." Kitty squeaked.  
  
"I'd have to give that horse a hell of a lot of apples before he felt reconciled enough to do that." Chyna shot back coldly. She sniffed the air. "Is that…is that henbane?"  
  
"No!" Kitty said defensively. "It's chocolate chip."  
  
"It's henbane, isn't it? You're making my illicit drugs into fucking cookies!"  
  
"And so what if I am?!" Kitty retorted. "Whattaya gonna do about it, Princess?"  
  
"What am I gonna do about it?!" Chyna repeated, trying to buy time enough to think about what she was actually going to do about it. "Fuck you!" She stalled.  
  
"Fuck you!" Kitty shouted back.  
  
"Fuck you!" Chyna repeated, still straining to think of something else to throw at her. "You have split ends!"  
  
"You stink!"  
  
Chyna could feel her warrior rage building up inside her, and she rose to stalk away. At least Hunter liked her when she had an apple or two in her hand. Stomping towards a nearby apple tree, she snatched a couple of pieces of the fruit and gave Kitty a 'I-don't-need-your-company-as-long-as-I-can- bribe-my-pony' look; her horse happily clopped towards her, drooling over the fruit. Chyna eyed that drool.  
  
"Maybe you WERE the one with your face stuck in my damn cleavage." She accused her pony. Hunter whinnied in disgust and tried to wrap his teeth around the apple. Chyna sighed. "I don't stink, do I?" She muttered, giving the horse the piece of fruit in disdain. Helmsley shot her a 'Ha-ha-Kitty- is-SO-right!' look.  
  
More bribes. Chyna thought hastily.  
  
***  
  
When Chyna had received the scroll from Road Dogg last week Kitty had not shut up about it; going on and on over how there was no real emergency and he was only sending it because he saw her as his last chance of getting laid seeming his masculinity remained un-preserved. Walking towards the D- Generate Kingdom now, Kitty wasn't letting up an inch about it.  
  
"Well, if you're gonna do the deed, at least take a bath!" Kitty suggested. Chyna gave her an exasperated look.  
  
"Kitty, why would I want to have sex with the Road Dogg?" She pulled a disgusted face, feeding Hunter another apple from the armful she had collected along the path. "I've been in his body; don't think I didn't look. The suspense is gone!"  
  
"Well, it's OBVIOUS he's just dragging us down here to have crazy monkey sex with you." Kitty snapped. "You hussy!"  
  
"Why am I the hussy!?" Chyna demanded. "It's not like I sent the scroll!"  
  
"No, but you're GOING, even though you're fully aware of the whole plot!" Kitty glared at Hunter crunching on his bribes. Stupid horse. Why won't she feed me like that? "So what do you say to that?"  
  
"It's not a plot!" Chyna groaned. "As far as I know, you wrote that scroll just to give yourself something to damn bitch about!"  
  
"Yeah, sure Chyna. Whatever you say."  
  
Kitty didn't really believe Road Dogg wanted to do Chyna at all; maybe X- Pac did, but she'd keep the little scrawny bastard away from Chyna as hard as she possibly could with flicks to the head and kicks up the ass. No, she just wanted Chyna to take a damn bath. Her leathers had remained unwashed since her battle with Syxx, the smell of henbane, cheap mead and cheese permeating them; Kitty tried really hard not the breathe when she was around her, not wanting to take in too many bad smells at the same time. Why did she have to eat so much fucking cheese?!  
  
She crunched on one of her henbane cookies as inconspicuously as she possibly could, noting that up ahead there was a river. Maybe you could classify it as a dam. Okay, an oversized puddle. Whatever. The cookies were doing their diabolical work faster than she had expected to them, and with all inhibitions lost and an evil giggle, Kitty ran at Chyna and shoved her into the brownish water.  
  
Chyna gasped as she went flying into the freezing cold pool, her sword sliding straight out of the scabbard and sinking to the filthy depths. She surfaced, sending the water cascading in all directions.  
  
"My sword!" She shrieked. "Kitty, you utter bitch! You made me lose my sword!"  
  
"Eh, that thing smelled like a bar room whore anyway." Kitty shrugged. "Just like you." She crunched on another of her drug laden biscuits.  
  
"That's MY henbane!" Chyna growled. "Ugh, look at me, I'm filthy. Now I'm going to have to use Road Dogg's disgusting bath house. Damn you!"  
  
"Just an excuse to get him in there with you." Kitty smirked.  
  
"Yeah, well maybe I WILL!" Chyna declared, realizing with a great deal of regret that she now had to back the claim up. Damn. At least she'd made Kitty go a little pale.  
  
***  
  
"What the fuck happened to this place?" Chyna demanded as she stepped through the gates of Road Dogg's palace. "What, did the people who sell that home improvement crap on 'Good Morning Atlantis' invade or something? Are you having doubts about your sexuality?"  
  
Road Dogg glared. "No. Billy Gunn taking over my Kingdom. Remember?"  
  
Chyna blinked. "Ohhh."  
  
This was actually enough to scare the Warrior Princess. The walls were the brightest, scariest yellow she had ever seen in her entire life; the only plus she could think of is that for the first time ever, the place looked really quite tidy. "So what you're telling me is that you haven't been able to get Billy to fuck off after all this time? And yet you invite me over for a visit?" She smacked Road Dogg about the back of the head. "Idiot!"  
  
"I don't know, I kind of like it." Kitty mused, devouring another cookie. Chyna shot her a look.  
  
"You would."  
  
"Hey, this isn't a social visit, I really do have an emergency!" Road Dogg said. Kitty's smile turned rather nasty.  
  
"Yes, you do have an emergency, your masculinity is dying and you need Chyna to rescue it!" She began giggling; Chyna mouthed the word 'henbane fucking cookies' over to the stunned Road Dogg, who didn't quite catch all of it, but still caught the gist after he watched Kitty practically inhale another one. He rolled his eyes, before wincing at the huge, wet, filthy puddle Chyna was standing in.  
  
"What the hell happened to you?"  
  
Chyna looked scary. "Don't ask. Just don't ask."  
  
"Billy is totally gonna get pissed about you desecrating his floors." Road Dogg paused. "Wanna run three laps of the place?"  
  
"Get stuffed." Chyna muttered, as Mr. Ass himself came prancing in the room, a crisp pair of hot pink shorts under his hideous yellow cloak. He gaped at the dreadful, dreadful state of the warrior woman, and then the dreadful state of his precious floor.  
  
"What in the hell?" He demanded. "Chyna, you will go and take a bath right now!"  
  
"Yes, yes I will." Chyna declared, suddenly remembering her plan to piss Kitty right off. "And Road Dogg will be joining me!"  
  
"He will?" Kitty asked through brutally clenched teeth.  
  
"I will?" Road Dogg looked at Chyna confusedly. "Chyna, I don't think you really wanna be using the bath house at this point in time."  
  
"Look at me Road Dogg. Yes I damn do!"  
  
"But Chyna…" He began. Chyna grabbed him by the hair.  
  
"No buts." She snapped. Bwahahaha. You wanna project 'infinite love', Kitty? Well, suck on this!  
  
***  
  
Chyna quickly understood Road Dogg's apprehension about going to the baths at this point in time; if he had just managed to get out 'Chyna, Aysa and Stone Cold have been sitting in there, getting drunk for the past hour', then making Kitty hideously jealous wouldn't have seemed like such a good idea. But it was far too late for that now. Opening the door to the bath chamber without knocking, Chyna shuddered in horror as Austin waved enthusiastically, raising his Steveweiser with his right hand and flipping her off with the left.  
  
"Road Dogg." She said quietly, a vein in her forehead starting to throb. "Why didn't you simply utter the word 'drunken pothead' before we entered? Why? Why?!"  
  
Road Dogg looked afraid. "You scare me!"  
  
"That's no fucking excuse to force me to bathe with a drunken hick and a she-male!" She shrieked. Giving up, she sighed, shrugged it off and started taking off her armor and leathers.  
  
"Oh, Chyna!" Road Dogg blushed.  
  
"Well, I AM pretty filthy. Being shoved in a filth encrusted cest pool will do that to you." She raised an eyebrow. "Don't be shy, it's not like I haven't seen your equipment before."  
  
"You looked?!" Road Dogg demanded. "That's going against body exchange privacy policy!"  
  
"So sue me." She shrugged, stepping into the hot water. Austin hooted and hollered like the idiot he was.  
  
"Yeah, take it off baby!" He gurgled through his beer. Chyna looked at him flatly.  
  
"I HAVE taken it off, you fuckwit. One could only presume you're talking to him."  
  
"One more comment like that and the D-O-double-G is leaving this room, dawgee style!" Road Dogg snapped as he pulled off his trousers rather awkwardly. Austin made no attempt to justify what he had just said; he downed the last of his beer and reached for another one as Road Dogg hopped into the bath.  
  
"It's not fair." Chyna pouted. "You're getting more 'take if off's' than me."  
  
"Quit it!" Road Dogg said rather dangerously, splashing her and sending water cascading all over Aysa. Aysa's eyes narrowed, and before Road Dogg could utter a word she grabbed his head and sent it hurtling towards the water, viciously trying to drown him. Chyna winced at being in the middle of it.  
  
"Oh, this is lovely." She muttered. "Where's the soap?"  
  
"I'd be sitting on it." Aysa said gruffly as Road Dogg bobbed about, struggling haplessly under her muscular forearm. Stone Cold giggled inanely.  
  
"I'm sorry!" Road Dogg wheezed, as Chyna tackled Aysa in an effort to remove her from the soap in which she had possession of. Aysa stopped trying to submerge the Road Kill Jesse Jammes at this point, spinning and catching Chyna in a most vicious nipple twister. She squeaked.  
  
"Oh, that is karma alright." Road Dogg gasped, his face a pretty shade of blue. Chyna tried frantically to dis-attach the vicious, vicious blond harpy, but it was to no avail.  
  
"Road Dogg…" She moaned. "Help me!"  
  
"Oh alright." Road Dogg replied begrudgingly, very delicately trying to rip Asya's fingers from Chyna's poor bruised nipple. Aysa snarled, shot out her other arm and caught Road Dogg in exactly the same move.  
  
"Some help you are!" Chyna muttered, debating whether she should try to wrench Aysa clear or low-blow the Dogg for failing. Nah. He was already getting abused – it saved her from having to do it. The fact he was still being abused even when she was incapable consoled her slightly in her nipple gripple hell.  
  
"Damn you wannabes!" Chyna growled, palming Aysa viciously in the forehead and sending her splashing backwards into the steaming water, releasing her double death grip. "Don't you dare steal my moves. If I ever see you giving someone a low-blow then you die." She fawned over her poor nipple, and shot Aysa a dark look. "That was not an invitation for you to low-blow anyone here, either. Unless it's Austin."  
  
Road Dogg's eyes were misty, from tears of joy or tears of agony one will never know. "Chyna, you defended me! You didn't give her permission to low- blow me! Thanks buddy!"  
  
"That honor belongs to ME." Chyna shrugged.  
  
Road Dogg paused, then gave a double thumbs up. "Whatever!"  
  
***  
  
Chyna soaped up her hair vigorously as X-Pac sat next to her in the tub. Now she had Road Dogg sitting to the left of her and X-Pac to the right – kinda funny how that seemed natural, being surrounded by naked D-Generates. She looked over at X-Pac.  
  
"Kitty is gonna have a fit when she realizes you're in here." Chyna dumped a pitcher of water unceremoniously on his head. "That, of course, is the only reason I'm allowing you to stay." She paused for breath. "Which brings me to my second point. What exactly are you doing in here?"  
  
"I'm reaaaaaally drunk." X-Pac responded. "Seriously!"  
  
"I don't too much doubt that." Road Dogg sighed.  
  
"I didn't think you drank." Chyna said with a raised eyebrow. X-Pac giggled and grabbed one of Austin's Steveweisers.  
  
"Hey, with the harpy around, who wouldn't?"  
  
X-Pac hadn't really seemed to notice that Aysa hadn't exactly exited the room, she and Austin just happened to be sitting on the other side of the large bath. Chyna watched her eyes narrow, and sighed. She never suspected it was Austin who'd be jumping the nude D-Generate beside her.  
  
"Ya skinny bastard!" Austin said ominously, hitting X-Pac with soggy right hands, beer splattering everywhere. "Don't be calling my woman a harpy!"  
  
"Your woman?" Chyna rolled her eyes. "You get around, don't you? Although…" She eyed the number of beer mugs surrounding the pair. "I'd say it's a match made in Elysia." She grabbed a cup of wine from the large spread of alcoholic beverages strewn about the tub. "I'm telling you Road Dogg, you really should've given up on the whole 'D-Generate' thing. Aysa and Billy are bad enough, but now you've got Austin to contend with. I would've killed something by now."  
  
"Well, resorting to alcoholism eases the pain." Road Dogg said. Chyna eyed X-Pac being assaulted by the drunken Austin.  
  
"It aint easing his." With a sigh, Chyna stuck out her bare leg and landed the low-blow of the century on Austin. "And it definitely didn't do anything to ease that."  
  
"Oooooooh." X-Pac oohed, as Austin waded back to the other side clutching his balls. Chyna looked rather self righteous as she washed the soap from her hair, before she gave X-Pac a nasty look.  
  
"Get your hand off my ass."  
  
"Drunk!" X-Pac said loudly. Chyna looked cold, then pointed to her fist.  
  
"Black eye!"  
  
"Point taken…" X-Pac retreated. Chyna then shot a cold look at Road Dogg.  
  
"You too."  
  
Road Dogg looked suitably guilty. "…Sorry."  
  
X-Pac began to giggle, a giggle which Chyna's glance mysteriously turned to a pathetic cough. There was a great deal of tension swirling about like the bath water, which kind of made the Warrior Princess think that she'd never be having a bath at Road Dogg's place again; unless of course, he invited her to one of his lovely little porn and prawn nights. She grimaced. With Billy around she figured there wouldn't be many of these again, the damn girlie bastard. Speaking of girlie bastards.  
  
"What the hell are you all doing in there?!" Billy demanded, striding into the room. Kane followed with what appeared to be a towel and a rubber duckie; Chyna gave him a look.  
  
"Some monster."  
  
"I'm a monster." Kane replied sheepishly.  
  
"Aysa, are you gonna give me one of these ass massages or what?" Billy demanded, ignoring everything else around him. Aysa shrugged her muscular shoulders, Chyna shuddered, then turned to the Dogg.  
  
"Oh yeah, I almost forgot. What's this big emergency?"  
  
"Oh, that." Road Dogg said. He suddenly looked rather nervous. "Well Chyna, apparently Vince the Barbarian has been conquered by Ric Flair of the uncharted Lands of Nitro, and well…they're heading this way and we need you to defend the walls."  
  
Chyna looked at him flatly. "I'm sitting in a bath with you for that?"  
  
Road Dogg raised an eyebrow. "Well, how about some casual sex?"  
  
"Kitty was right!" Chyna exclaimed, dunking Road Dogg's head in the water much like Aysa had previously. "Whoever would have thunk it?"  
  
***  
  
"Road Dogg." Chyna growled, standing outside the palace, her wet hair clinging to her face. "When you said 'defend the walls' I kind of figured you had walls to defend, you know?"  
  
The palace defence mechanism was crumbled all around them; covered in mud, she noticed a few cow skeletons scattered through the wreckage.  
  
"Yes, well…" Road Dogg begun. "Do you remember when I told you about Billy's invasion?"  
  
"Oh hell." Chyna muttered, cradling her face in her palm. "So now what?"  
  
"Well, I was kinda hoping you would…"  
  
"Build another wall." Chyna snapped abruptly. Road Dogg nodded.  
  
"Yeah, how'd you know?"  
  
Chyna gave him a cold look. "How many days away is Flair?"  
  
Road Dogg looked thoughtful. "Um…I'd say a day."  
  
"A day?!" Chyna spat, staring at the disrepair around her. "You expect me to fix this in a day?!"  
  
"Well…you'd have help." Road Dogg scratched his ear. "I mean, me and X-Pac would help. And Kane."  
  
"What about Aysa?" Chyna asked suspiciously. "Isn't she one of these Nitro Troglodytes? Wouldn't she want Ric Flair to invade?"  
  
"Come to think about it, yeah, she would!" Road Dogg scratched his chin thoughtfully at the revelation; Chyna rolled her eyes.  
  
"I can't believe you didn't consider that possibility. Idiot." Muttering to herself, she strode forward. "I'll go and head Flair off myself. You stay here and start on the wall." She paused. "Right after I take back my fucking Henbane cookies!" At Road Dogg's disapproving glance, she curled her upper lip and stomped towards the stable. "Fine, I'm going, but I owe you a major low-blow when I get back."  
  
***  
  
The hinges went flying from the High Council chamber's door for about the millionth time as Chyna came thundering through the wreckage, her eyes darting about for signs of poultry, Mean Street Posses or an aging barbarian in furry underwear waving about a club with obvious phallic symbolism. Grunting, her boots crunching across the remains of the door, Chyna rested her hand lightly on her Chakram.  
  
"Come out, come out." She muttered, looking around. "I'm in no mood for any bullshit."  
  
A meek voice sounded from behind a couch. "Okay Princess...just don't split my skull in the blink of an eye like you've threatened before."  
  
A familiar blond head poked out from behind the furniture, and upon spotting long blond looks Chyna felt the incredible urge to fling her Chakram, being reminded of Jericho's sniveling little features. But controlling her crazy urge, she noted it was not our Messiah, but simply Christian. However, her left eye still bugged out slightly at the sight of him.  
  
"What are you doing there, you scabby little reptile?"  
  
"I work here!" Christian said rather indignantly, pointing at his…pink frilly apron? Chyna gaped…it was the same apron from her vision! Fearing that at any moment he was going to scrunch up his face and whine out some infinite love, the thought of laying the smack down on his frilly ass momentarily crossed her mind.  
  
"As what?!" She demanded.  
  
"I'm Vince's secretary." Said Christian sheepishly. "I mean, it's not my occupation of choice, but after that Trish woman resigned and all…"  
  
Chyna gaped again, pulling a perfect 'X-Pac and Road Dogg in utter shock' pose. "Trish? Trish who?"  
  
"Why does that matter?" Christian pouted. Chyna clenched her jaw and grabbed Chrissy by the hair.  
  
"Tell me!" She snarled.  
  
"Er, um…" Christian struggled feebly. "Trish…Stratus? Strobus? Something like that. She apparently left when Vince asked if he could spank her…"  
  
"She left so she could fucking well head me off to Egypt and save the Messiah from me!" Chyna declared, stamping her feet like an irate toddler. "If I had my way I would've ripped every hair from her head!"  
  
"Oh my." Said Christian. "What a pity. But Chyna, tell me…why are you wanting to kill our Messiah?"  
  
"Because." Chyna said flatly. "Our Messiah is Chris Jericho."  
  
"That really is cruel fate." Christian sighed. "So what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out there, you know, doing your violence thing?"  
  
"I'd love to be doing that, but unfortunately, I've gotta stop Ric Flair from passing a non-existent wall. You. Come with me."  
  
"But Chyna…" Christian whined. "Every time you say that something horrible happens to me!"  
  
"Something horrible happen will alright if you don't move your ass."  
  
***  
  
Saying that the reconstruction of the wall was going badly would be an understatement. Kitty, who's jaw was jutting as prominently as Chyna's at this point, held her spatula with an iron fist, flicking little bits of badly mixed, muddy cement at Road Dogg and X-Pac whenever the opportunity arose, and that was often. X-Pac, grabbing at a huge hunk of runny mud from his hair for the tenth time that afternoon, narrowed his eyes so viciously at the bard he almost resembled his son Syxx on a bad day.  
  
"What is your problem?!" He demanded, flinging the filth to the ground.  
  
"I accidentally spilt some cement."  
  
"That was an amazing spill!" Stone Cold commented from where he was lying drunkenly in the shade, a Steveweiser in his flailing grasp. "You sort of…just picked up a hunk of mud and threw it violently at the skinny bastard's head. Amazing!"  
  
Kitty smiled serenely before flicking another lump at the passing Road Dogg. "Whoops, it seems to have happened again!" Road Dogg looked very un- amused as wet dirt slid lazily down his cheek and plopped onto his shirt. "You know, I'd advise you two should take a bath, but seeming Chyna's not here, you wouldn't be interested would you? Maybe a change of clothing then."  
  
"You think you can tell me what to do, you think you can tell me what to wear?!" X-Pac shrieked, x-chopping at an amazingly fast pace. "You think you're better?!"  
  
"Hey, that was pretty good." Said Road Dogg. "I should write that down."  
  
Kane came lumbering into view, a huge boulder in his grip, and although it wasn't obvious, one could assume he had a very pissed off look on his face. Even Austin knew better and to keep his stupid comments to himself, and retired back to quietly pouring beer down his throat and then bashing the cans on his bald head. Flinging the enormous rock at Kitty's feet, she raised her eyebrows.  
  
"Well, put it on the wall."  
  
X-Pac gulped, figuring Kane would go catatonic and drive Kitty through the aforementioned wall; hoping he wouldn't because that meant mixing more mud, although half had been wasted and was currently splattered all over his weedy body. But Kane sighed, and lifting the heavy object back up, walked over to where the shabby looking walls were starting to form around the palace. Road Dogg looked half relieved and half disappointed, as a wagon came rolling into view, and a man jumped out in a very poor recreation of Julius Caesar's armor. Kitty immediately put on her nicest face.  
  
"Yes? Can we help you?"  
  
The man scowled. "My name is Kurt Angleus Maximus." Pulling out a parchment from his belt, he continued. "I'm here with the arrest warrant for a one 'Chyna: Warrior Princess' for attempted murder of our Messiah." He paused to scratch his nose. "The penalty is death, it's true. It's damn true."  
  
Kitty eyed the girth of the centurion's neck, and sensed the danger. "Fancy that."  
  
"Have you seen her?"  
  
"Me?" Kitty giggled. "Why would Chyna want to associate with peasants like us? We're merely building a wall."  
  
"That's the wall to a registered kingdom." Said Kurt Angleus, eyeing Road Dogg. "And you're the lord of that registered kingdom."  
  
"So I am." Road Dogg mused. "Imagine. Still doesn't mean I have anything to do with Chyna."  
  
"Well, I beg to differ." Kurt replied, pulling from his belt what appeared to be the Saga of Two Kingdoms, recently put into print by Miss Kitty. Kitty's winced as he unrolled the parchment to a very detailed account of everything that went down, including names, illustrations and a large image of Miss Kitty holding her quill and winking in the bonus 'about the bard' scroll. X-Pac's eyes bugged. But there was more. He also appeared to be carrying an 'Olympic Riot' scroll, a 'Epic battle with Taker in the mud pit' scroll, a 'Hunter has hemorrhoids special addition' scroll and a Chyna action figure. Kitty eyed the action figure in disdain.  
  
"Well okay, fine, you can put all the scrolls down to me…but you can't blame me for that ugly thing!"  
  
Kurt turned the muscular doll over in his hands. "No, this is a genuine copy of an expensive fake."  
  
"Do I have an action figure?" X-Pac asked weakly; Kitty shot him a look, and he shut his mouth.  
  
"Alright, so you've figured we have some attachment to Chyna." Kitty shot, her niceness quickly evaporating. "That doesn't mean we know where she is. She could be anywhere."  
  
"That's true." Kurt didn't look overly upset. "Still doesn't mean I'm not going to arrest you all. It's true."  
  
"What did we do?!" Kitty demanded, flinging down her spatula and amazingly still managing to hit X-Pac and Road Dogg with a double whammy of mud. Kurt looked thoughtful.  
  
"It's quite obvious you're all against our Messiah and in this 'worshippers of HBK' cult." He thrust the 'Olympic Riot' scroll in Kitty's face. "Some of the depictions of Jericho here are simply not called for!"  
  
"I was just going by what he said." Said Kitty meekly, pointing at X-Pac with a rigid finger.  
  
"What did you expect, the guy got me killed!" X-Pac muttered, waving his arms about. Kane cradled his face in his palm and shook his head; it all was going so badly.  
  
"I've had enough of this. Integrity, intensity and intelligence. That's what Jericho stands for. It's true. And what does HBK stand for?"  
  
"Heart Break Kid?" Kitty offered.  
  
"Free turnips, free beer and half price resurrections?" X-Pac suggested lamely.  
  
"Whattaya mean, integrity, intensity and intelligence?!" Road Dogg snapped, pushing in front of the Little Green D-Generate. "C'mon, I was at the Olympics. The most intelligent, intense and integral thing he did when he was there was steal Mr. Ass' chariot and make a get away before I ripped his damn head off."  
  
"Confession!" Kurt announced loudly, grabbing Road Dogg and putting him in a horrendous looking hammer lock. Jesse yelped. "You tried to kill our Messiah!"  
  
"He killed him!" Road Dogg wheezed, gesturing towards the stunned 'Pac and struggling against the beefy centurion's hold. "He and his she-male tried to kill me!"  
  
Kitty delicately approached the situation as she approached most situations like this; she grabbed a shovel and smacked Angleus across the back. "Knock it off, you nasty critter!" She spat, pushing a strand of dyed black hair from her face. Kurt turned and he looked rather pissed.  
  
"Assaulting an officer!" Kurt declared, charging the bard. Kitty squealed and fled, Kurt chasing her around the barely started wall; Austin gurgled his beer in delight from where he was retreating back into the palace. Eventually grabbing a handful of her hair he wrenched her backwards, Kane hastily grabbing Kurt and pulling him off the shrieking bard. Into the wall he hurtled, powered by Kane's forearm; Road Dogg moaned in anguish.  
  
"What a waste of an afternoon."  
  
"And now we're gonna die!" X-Pac sobbed. Kurt struggled up from a mess of broken rocks and muddy cement, and he looked more pissed off than he did previously, if at all possible. Lunging, he grabbed X-Pac and Road Dogg's heads and clunked them together, before spinning like a bat out of hell and collecting Kane in a Denver Bronco's like tackle which sent them crashing into the ground, Kurt squealing and smacking Kane mercilessly in the head with a rather pointy rock; Kitty noted hastily that it looked like an uncomfortable thing to have to endure. Kane looked really quite helpless and really quite like the Undertaker in the mud pit after he had taken a nasty kick to his demonic balls and so Kitty bounded forward and smacked Kurt straight up the ass with her patented 'shovel low blow'. Down he went.  
  
"Wow, you beat Angleus!" X-Pac said enthusiastically, crawling from the ground. Kitty stood proud and tall, her shovel tightly in her grip.  
  
"Ooh." Kane groaned, swaying slightly. "That really hurt!" X-Pac pulled a sympathetic face.  
  
"Well, there's nothing to fear anymore, my large red friend!" Kitty proclaimed heroically. A claim which lasted about ten seconds, as about ten more wagons suddenly rolled into view, all carrying very pissed looking centurions. All four sets of eyes fell on the battered Kurt lying in a mess of badly mixed cement.  
  
"Maybe we could say he just slipped and hit his head." Kitty barely whispered.  
  
"Maybe we could say a shovel magically leapt up and crammed itself up his ass." Road Dogg said poignantly. X-Pac's lip quibbled.  
  
"We're still all gonna die!"  
  
To be Continued  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
" 


	2. The Champion of Rome

Chyna: Warrior Princess  
  
Episode XVIII: The Champion of Rome  
  
Disclaimer: All characters here don't belong to me, but to Titan Sports and Vince. No copyright infringement intended. Seeming Chyna Warrior princess is an obvious parody of Xena Warrior Princess, the events here are a parody of the episodes Livia, Eve and the Ides of March. Well, more loosely based. Whatever.  
  
  
  
In a time of ancient gods, warlords and kings, a land in turmoil cried out for a hero. She was Chyna, a mighty she-male forged in the heat of low blows. The power, the passion, the danger…her courage is going the pseudo Christian way.  
  
As you might remember from the previous installment, Ric Flair of the WCW Troglodyte community broke free from his hell hole residence in the middle of nowhere and made towards the High Council, apparently conquering Vince McMahon and making his way towards the D-Generate Kingdom to smash it into smithereenies. Chyna discovered this heinous fact while in a naked D- Generate sandwich in the tub, and now, discovering Christian hiding at Vince's place, is off to stop the white haired dickhead. But more importantly, Kitty, Road Dogg, X-Pac and Kane have been set upon by suspiciously religious looking Roman zealots! And they didn't even get to finish their wall!  
  
Kitty clenched her teeth viciously as another drop of water bombarded into her skull, Road Dogg's pathetic whimpering from the left of her and X-Pac sobbing from the right making her wish she'd be executed sooner. It was quite possibly the most horrendous torture that Kurt Angleus Maximus could have subjected her to – three hours of having thousands of tiny droplets smack her in the back of the head, and a pair of babbling, demented idiots. Kane grunted from his set of stocks.  
  
"Dammit all, I have an itchy nose."  
  
"Be quiet." Kitty growled more dangerously than usual to Kane. There was no danger of a chokeslam she figured, and right now, a chokeslam would be a blessing. Maybe it'd knock her silly and she wouldn't have to listen to Road Dogg and X-Pac anymore.  
  
"We're all gonna die…" X-Pac whimpered; Kitty, with a great deal of difficulty, managed to flip him off from the stocks. X-Pac tried to turn his head to see what she was doing. "Are you…are you flipping me off?"  
  
"Yes." Kitty replied flatly, thrusting her middle finger up at him. X-Pac's eyes narrowed, and with a determined look, he managed to flip the bird straight back at her. Kitty disregarded it. "And if we're all gonna die, I wish they would damn well hurry up with it." Another drip of water made her scowl broadly.  
  
"Chyna will save us, won't she?" Road Dogg suggested weakly.  
  
"Do you remember when she became Queen of Ass and left us all to drown in that cell in favor of wading away to safety?" X-Pac muttered. "Well, I think this situation kind of echoes that one. She knew where we actually were that time, at least."  
  
"Of course she did, she fucking put us there!" Road Dogg spat, before whimpering again. "We're doomed!"  
  
"Lucky I left that bit out of the 'Dances with Takers' special addition scroll." Kitty mused. "That one really did need some editing!"  
  
"Did you say 'Dances with Takers'?" A voice sounded from a particularly dark corner of their prison cell. And from that particularly dark corner shuffled…the forces of evil themselves! Led by the Acolytes, came Mideon, Vis and the Hollys. Kitty wrinkled her nose as if she had eaten something distasteful, particularly when a scabby copy of the scroll was pulled from Vis' pretty leather moo-moo.  
  
"I thought your descriptions of the Undertaker were a tad squicky." Said Viscera, unrolling the parchment and pulling out what appeared to be a pair of gold rimmed reading glasses. "And then out from the sun baked pig hole rose the Taker…" Vis read. "Looking remarkably pissed off, he stood proud and tall and groaned in his anguish like a dirty dog after it had crawled into its box after being raped; Chyna, oh the mighty warrior woman, oh glorious day, kicked in his demonic balls, and he was shocked into submission."  
  
"People are paying for that crap?" Road Dogg demanded. Vis was scanning through Kitty's work intently.  
  
"Ooh, there's a rather vivid part about you here, old boy."  
  
"We do not want to hear it!" Kitty snapped from her wooden restraints.  
  
"Well, I do…" Kane offered. Kitty shot him a nasty, nasty look.  
  
"No you don't!" She muttered. "Now tell me, what are you doing in here?"  
  
"Oh, it was awful!" Mideon said rather dramatically. "We were just sitting around the not-so-sacred lands of the Taker like we always are, you know, plotting rebirths and so on and so forth, and we were just considering throwing a dinner party…"  
  
"Oh shut up." Bradshaw groaned, giving Mideon a bitch-slap from hell. "We were beaten up by a bunch of Romans in skirts."  
  
"Something about us being in the Cult of HBK." Said Farooq. "I mean, how dumb do you want some people to be, we're the cronies of the Undertaker! How many times did Taker whoop pretty boy's ass?"  
  
"Cronie?" Bob Holly demanded from where he was sitting on the cold, dirty floor. "Now I told you boy, I aint no-ones cronie! Undertaker is our boy, you know, the only reason me and my cousin keep him around is because he's the only guy around big enough to run in our super heavy weight league."  
  
"You said it Bob!" The unbelievably uglier Crash sniggered.  
  
"Don't call me Bob damn you!"  
  
"You bunch of weirdoes." Kitty muttered. "Well, apparently we're in the Cult of HBK too. Small world. Small, miserable world."  
  
"Yeah, we just got special treatment because she planted a shovel up Kurt Angleus' ass." Road Dogg said bitterly, as a drop of water rolled down his nose. Hardcore and Crash giggled. Kane, who had been looking very uncomfortable for the past couple of minutes, suddenly stood up, rammed himself into the wall and sent wood shattering in all directions. Everyone gaped as Kane stuck his hand under his mask and scratched vigorously.  
  
"What…?" He asked. "It's not like any of you offered to scratch it."  
  
***  
  
Ric Flair struggled with Chyna as they battled a fierce battle in aisle nine of Chyna's favorite 'Epic-mart'. Stopping off to grab some turnips and a keg of beer, despite Christian's objections, had actually turned out to be a perfect move, because Ric Flair happened to be standing up the front of the store checking out nudie scrolls. Christian had squealed and Chyna had lunged, sending them hurtling into a large display of falafel mix and crashing into the floor, spilling several containers of prune juice.  
  
"Wooooooo!" Ric wooed, as he struggled to his feet, adjusting his rabbit skin underwear which was slipping about his crotch in an entirely indecent manner. Chyna was snarling and reaching for her sword, she moaned in anguish when she remembered it was still sitting at the bottom of an enormous, filthy puddle. Feeling rather irate, her anger at Kitty fueling her, she sprung forward and gripped Flair by the eyebrows, headbutting him with wild abandon; Ric struggled about as they slumped to the floor, Chyna sinking her warrior teeth into his wrinkled thigh.  
  
"Stop. Biting. Me. Right. Now!" Flair hammered out.  
  
Chyna mumbled a nasty curse through her mouthful, but she did not let go, instead punching him in the balls as he flailed on the floor. Taking grip of his club which he had dropped in the fray, she whacked him straight up the ass with that as well; then rising, she hauled him to his feet and flung him into the lobsters. Ric Flair rolled about the ice cubes in anguish, lobsters all around him, clutching at his violated crotch.  
  
"Chyna! You saved the known world from the troglodytes!" Christian leapt about in celebration. Chyna was busy eyeing the seafood which she had flung the Barbarian into.  
  
"Hey, these lobsters are on special!" She said, walking over, grabbing one, and shoving it into the trolley at Christian's side.  
  
"But Chyna, what are you going to do about Flair?"  
  
"Well, I'm going to leave him of course." Chyna shrugged. "He's pathetic. He's no threat. X-Pac could probably kick his ass. Hell, you probably could."  
  
"Oh, I see." Christian replied quietly, before placing his hands on his hips indignantly. "Hey! What is that supposed to mean? I'll have you know I reek of awesomeness!"  
  
"Assuming awesomeness is the name of the cologne you're wearing." Chyna replied flatly. Christian looked deeply offended, and he stomped away in a huff as 'clean up in aisle nine' sounded across the Epic-Mart. Chyna shrugged and bit into one of the turnips sitting in her trolley, before in a puff of smoke, HBK appeared. Chyna gave him a look.  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"Gotta get some pickles for the little woman." He said tiredly. "Then apparently I'm doing an autograph session out the front of the store. Some 'Cult of HBK' jazz. Well, whatever." He eyed the mess around the aisle. "What in the name of me happened?"  
  
"I haven't the faintest idea." Said Chyna innocently, as Ric Flair fell from the lobster case and rolled about the floor. HBK eyed the seafood suspiciously.  
  
"Hey, are these lobsters on special?" He ran towards them, stepping over Flair. "Ooh!" He said, shoving one into his basket, before turning to Chyna once more. "Oh yeah, I'm glad I bumped into you, apparently some Romans broke your wall or something. Didn't catch all of it, just heard Mr. Ass and Terri talking about it in the salon." He flicked his beautiful hair. "Like the new style?"  
  
"My…my wall?" Chyna said, ignoring Shawn's shameless self advertisement. "Romans, you say?"  
  
"Yeah, apparently one went flying straight through it. Nasty mess." He milled over towards the cheeses case. "Booker T. Caesar ordered it, I think. Apparently he doesn't like my new found cult."  
  
"You have a cult?" Chyna asked with an incredulous look.  
  
"Chyna, you and your pals are IN my cult."  
  
"We are? I am?" Chyna paused to consider the facts. "Well HBK, considering the wall was around the D-Generate Kingdom, and seeming that your 'cult' are currently there, wouldn't it be safe to assume that the Romans would be attacking them, rather than the wall which happens to be non-existent?"  
  
HBK looked thoughtful. "Hey, that's good deduction!"  
  
"Oh hell." Chyna muttered. "Now I've got to go to the fucking Roman base in Thrace before they get eaten by lions or something. It never ends."  
  
"Thrace? Why isn't it in Rome?"  
  
Chyna looked pained. "It would make sense. Booker T. Caesar just liked saying 'his base in Thrace.' Go figure."  
  
"Does this mean my autograph session has been cancelled?"  
  
Chyna sighed, before striding towards the aisle Christian had been sulking in, grabbing him by the hair and dragging him before the King of the Gods. "Christian, ask HBK nicely for an autograph, or you die."  
  
Christian, with a very scared look on his face, produced a piece of parchment and held it out towards HBK with a strained looking smile. HBK gave a thumbs up which lit up the whole aisle.  
  
"Thanks Chyna! You're the best!"  
  
***  
  
A skanky looking Trish Stratus barged into the jail, wearing armor which was nothing less than a cheap rip off of Chyna's, complete with an awful makeup job and red slacks. Kitty, who had been free from the stocks and free from the water splattering all over her head for quite some time now, gave her a triumphant two fingered salute, before realizing who it was.  
  
"Trish Stratuspatra?"  
  
"Trish Stratus, champion of Rome and the cult of Jericho." She snapped back huffily. X-Pac raised his hand.  
  
"But we're in Thrace."  
  
"Quiet!" She demanded. "Booker T. Caesar demands that I battle a Champion for your freedom in the arena, why he'd allow this for you stinking HBK followers is beyond me."  
  
"But we don't follow this HBK fellow, we're the forces of darkness…" Viscera begun politely. Trish, looking skankier than before, picked up a wooden plate and whizzed it through the bars with warrior skill, smacking poor old Vis in the head. X-Pac moved subtly closer to Kane with a very frightened look.  
  
"Be quiet! Now, who will be my champion?"  
  
There was a rather large pause. Kitty gestured at Road Dogg to raise his hand. Road Dogg didn't notice, being too busy trying to make X-Pac do it. Kane rolled his eyes.  
  
"Fine, I will decide." Trish snapped. She eyed the occupants of the cell. "You. Right there." She pointed at Kitty.  
  
"What? Me?" Kitty snapped. "You've got to be joking. Why don't you consider someone like Viscera?" She echoed Syxx's words really perfectly, although no one would ever know that she just had. Trish pouted.  
  
"Be quiet little girl." She growled. "You will fight me to the death." And then she left, slamming the door behind her. Kitty raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Well, she was rude."  
  
***  
  
Booker T. Caesar sat back on his throne as Kurt Angleus Maximus and Trish Stratus entered the Senate; Kurt wasn't sure, but he could've sworn that a moment before they entered Caesar had been playing with one of these cup and ball things. He could hear the 'donk' noise as the ball missed the little cup and Booker T. swearing softly. Still, it seemed to be gone now.  
  
"Ah, Stratus, Champion of Rome!" Said Booker, rising to his feet and gallantly flicking his toga. "All's going well then, have you found a SUCKA to battle in the arena this afternoon?" He waggled his finger. "I'm expecting a good show now."  
  
Trish wondered why the word 'sucka' always came out louder than the rest momentarily, before replying. "Yeah, I picked Chyna's bitchy little pal. Nothing will get the Warrior Princess' panties in a twist more than me cutting the brat into little bits."  
  
"I must say, that's not very cool of you, Trish." Kurt interjected. "I think you're forgetting your three I's again."  
  
"Rack off boy toy." Trish snarled. "When I become Empress of Rome, I'll make sure to have you publicly dipped in marmalade if you keep at me with that I's crap."  
  
"Can you dig it? SUCKA?" Booker T. interjected loudly. Kurt Angle crossed his arms.  
  
"You can't treat your Olympic hero this way." He pouted.  
  
"Hello, we're Romans." Said Trish. "Who cares about the Olympics, it's just so Grecian."  
  
"But Trish, aren't you forgetting our Messiah is Grecian?"  
  
Trish gave Kurt a very pained look. "You idiot. Jericho is not our Messiah, I fucking made that up to keep Chyna off our trail. We're not doing it for that blond imbecile, we're using him to lure Chyna into our trap, to make it easier for us to conquer HBK and take over the known world. Okay!?"  
  
Kurt looked stunned. "It's not true, it's damn not true!" He wailed, clapping his hands over his ears. "I feel so betrayed!"  
  
Booker T. gave two hearty thumbs up. "Way to go Trish!" Kurt was still pouting when Booker T. shot him a very annoyed glance. "Ahem."  
  
Kurt looked up from his sulking. "Oh. Go Team."  
  
***  
  
Chyna walked into the coliseum, feeling much lighter and a whole lot happier since she dropped off Christian about twenty miles back. The little depressing shit with his depressing pink frilly aprons that could've quite possibly been the key. She didn't care. He was reeking of something, but awesomeness wasn't it. Pushing open the door and walking through the front row seats, she was considering taking a nap when the sounds of swords clashing caught her attention. Jericho and Trish Stratus were fighting.  
  
Ooh, maybe she'll accidentally knick his head right off. Chyna thought gleefully, before noticing the sexual tensions of their battle and figuring it wasn't going to happen. With a sigh, she flipped into the dirt of the arena.  
  
"Hey Trish, long time no bitch fight." Chyna waved. "Hey Jericho, my you're looking like a weed." She gave a satisfied smile. Jericho looked like he'd just shit himself.  
  
"Chyna?" He said with a quibble in his lip. "Stop doing this to me dammit! Just let me exist!"  
  
"Excuse me, you so asked for this!" Chyna shot back, stomping her foot. "You know, if you hadn't been double…no, triple teaming me with that skank Tori and that she-male friend of yours!"  
  
"If you hadn't pulled out so much of my beautiful hair!" Jericho retorted haughtily.  
  
"Oh, like you didn't deserve it." Said Chyna, getting all loud and in Jericho's face. "You killed two of my, hating to admit this, friends!"  
  
"You got my nose broken!"  
  
"You cheated!" She snapped, waving her arms about. Trish had been watching this with a bored look before pulling her sword out on the two of them.  
  
"Oh, grow up." She muttered. Chyna gave her an angry look, as did Jericho.  
  
"Butt out of it." Chyna growled.  
  
"Yeah, don't you have some cult to destroy?" Jericho said with a wave of his hand. Trish looked at him flatly.  
  
"She is the leader of the cult, you imbecile."  
  
Jericho looked at Chyna expectantly; she shrugged. "Yeah, well apparently I am. Don't worry, I'm as shocked as you are."  
  
"Well, okay." Said Jericho, grabbing his sword and walking away. "But we'll finish this later."  
  
"I promise!" Chyna called after him, then turning she looked at Trish Stratus impatiently. "Okay, so are you gonna try and kill me now or what? I'm running on a tight schedule here."  
  
"No no no, not here." Trish said with her ever present skanky expression. "This afternoon, right here, you will be the champion of the HBK Worshipping Cult, and you'll fight for your little pals who are locked in the dungeon right now!"  
  
Chyna looked at Trish hard. "Where the hell did all this 'HBK Worship' come from? I just don't understand it. But fine. Whatever." And Chyna, turning on her heel, left the coliseum.  
  
***  
  
The crowd that had shown up for the big event was almost as big as when she did battle with Syxx. Minus a few familiar faces of course; the D- Generates, Kane and her sidekick who were rotting in the dungeons, the forces of quasi-darkness who were probably far too lazy to show and the Undertaker, Hunter and Syxx whose presence she strangely missed. It just wasn't right having a cataclysmic showdown without the three whom she'd affectionately come to think of as 'the three stooges.' Instead she was stuck doing battle with a Roman skank in poor armor. I miss the good old days. Chyna thought with a sigh.  
  
It was Trish's turn to make her big entrance – riding out on a white pony, she held up a banner and stuck her nose prominently in the air. "For the glory of Rome! And to a lesser extent, Jericho!"  
  
The crowd didn't really take, considering the Roman base was in Thrace, which was in Greece. Jericho sat sulkily in the front row with one of Edge's gourmet, fruity pies in his grasp. "You bimbo! I'm the Messiah dammit! Screw Rome!"  
  
"Yeah!" Austin yelled from the second row, raising his Steveweiser. "Screw Rome! Screw Rome!"  
  
A chant of 'Screw Rome' swiftly ensued. Trish's teeth clenched, and she raised her sword threateningly, but the crowd did not shut up. Chyna suddenly felt a slight feeling of dread. Her sword. She was still without a sword.  
  
"Um, excuse me…" Chyna raised her hand at Booker T. Caesar. "Caesar, is it? Look, hate to bother you and all but…"  
  
Booker T. abruptly gave her a thumbs down and Trish charged her, Chyna barely backflipping from her opponents path. She gave Booker T. a nasty, nasty look. "Well then FUCK YOU BUDDY!" When he hit her with another thumbs down, she replied with a middle finger salute. The crowd gave an ominous 'Ooooooooh'.  
  
"Fight me, bitch!" Trish spat. Chyna, standing before Trish without a weapon, scrunched up her face into a glare.  
  
"Easy for you to say!" Chyna growled, pulling out the Chakram, which, even though considered the ultimate weapon was really, really shithouse against a sword. With a grunt, Chyna flung it, sending it hurtling towards Trish, who merely struck it with her blade and sent it rebounding towards the warrior woman. Chyna sighed as she caught it and shoved it back onto her belt. "Well shit."  
  
"You're not so tough without your big sword, are you?" Trish drawled; Chyna felt a great deal of animosity towards this woman, who really didn't seem to know who she was dealing with. With a shrug, she strode towards her and with a perfect kick, the weapon went sailing from Trish's hand.  
  
"Neither are you." Chyna said flatly, punching her in the pretty little nose. Stratus yelped in pain as Chyna brought her down with a tackle; the crowd were on their feet as Chyna hammered the Champion of Rome's head onto the arena floor.  
  
"Yeah, whoop some ass!" Austin hollered.  
  
"Pull her hair, yeah, that's it!" Jericho screamed.  
  
"Would you like a pie?" Called Edge.  
  
"Yes!" Shouted Chyna, rising to her feet as Trish lay moaning on the ground. "Edge…I would like a pie!" And so, Edge threw her a pie, which Chyna caught with warrior skill and, pulling Trish up by the hair, smashed into her face. Trish moaned and tried to wipe the caked mixture of pastry and summer berries from her eyes as Chyna sent her flying with one arm. She crashed into the ground once more.  
  
"Chyna…would you like another pie?" Edge called, getting really into the whole experience. The crowd cheered him on enthusiastically as Chyna signaled for him to bring forth his entire legion of pie, which he did so, festively flinging them towards the Champion of Rome. He grinned. "It's just like the good old days, hey Warrior Princess?"  
  
Chyna swiped a tear at happy memories. "Yeah."  
  
Trish was not amused. Being the skanky, snotty little Champion she was, she naturally had never encountered something this crass before; the rampant drinking of beer, eating of turnips and flinging of food so common to the Grecians. She struggled to her feet, wiping the dust and berries from her horrible red slacks, and she looked up at the Emperor.  
  
"We are so moving this base out of Greece!" She ordered.  
  
"No more Base in Thrace?" And he gave a big thumbs down. "SUCKA!"  
  
Trish was stunned; she didn't see Chyna's boot hurtling towards her face until she was flat on her back with a big footprint on her cheek. Chyna now was holding Trish's sword her chin, and she couldn't help but think what a fabulous visual statement it made.  
  
Trish's eyes narrowed. "Go on. Do it."  
  
"Tempting…" Chyna muttered to herself. With a sigh, she looked over at Caesar, who looked like he was playing about with a cup and ball game. Chyna cleared her throat loudly. "Hey! You! I can't hold this fucking pose forever!"  
  
Booker T. looked up, before stuffing the cup and ball under his seat. Trying to decide what was more important, crowd applause or world domination, he eventually went with world domination, although the choice proved difficult. He gave a big double thumbs up.  
  
"Ah, fuck." Chyna muttered, pulling the point of the blade away from Trish's throat. Kitty's face had appeared from the cell.  
  
"Life for us all!" She shrieked. "Or at the very least, life for me!"  
  
"Oh, there you are." Said Chyna, noticing X-Pac pushing Kitty from the bars and giving a very enthusiastic wave. Chyna waved back, before turning to look at Booker T.  
  
"You do realize I'm gonna kill you now!"  
  
Trish was stomping off skankilly and Booker T. Caesar was looking a little shocked. Trish sped up the stairs of the coliseum, shoving a falafel seller roughly from her path, and she and the Emperor made an escape with a reluctant looking Jericho. A Jericho who paused and leaned over the barrier.  
  
"Um…nice job, Chy."  
  
Chyna beamed. "Thanks Chrissy. Kill you later."  
  
"Kay." And he scrambled from his front row seat after the two Romans.  
  
To Be Continued… 


	3. HBK Trekkin', Across the Base in Thrace....

Chyna: Warrior Princess  
  
Episode XIX: HBK trekkin, around the Base in Thrace…  
  
Disclaimer: Everyone here belongs to the World Wrestling Federation and Titan Sports. Syxx belongs to me. No copyright infringement intended…  
  
  
  
In a time of ancient gods, warlords and kings, a land in turmoil cried out for a hero. She was Chyna, a mighty she-male forged in the heat of low- blows. The power, the passion, the demented journeys…her courage will change the world!  
  
Looking back, Chyna has done epic battle in Rome…in Greece, against the Champion of Jericho, Trish Stratus. Beating her skanky ass the good old fashion, pie flinging way, she let her live on the thumbs up of the moronic Booker T. Caesar. Ric Flair is long, long forgotten, and probably rolling around a case of seafood at an Epic-Mart near you!  
  
Trish Stratus was having the time of her life. For one, she was going on a murder, rape and pillage spree that made the Undertaker's 'Kontiki Tour B.C' in which he randomly devoured the brains of Hestian Virgins look like a free love parade. Standing in front of a line of old people, she stomped forwards, brandishing her sword. Kurt Angleus Maximus looked bored.  
  
"Alright, I've got about three more villages to pillage today, so I'll make it simple. You are in the Cult of HBK. You die." Trish yawned. She was a tad thirsty.  
  
"I really don't know what you're talking about." Said an old rebel, shrugging. Trish rolled her eyes.  
  
"Why does everyone say that?"  
  
Kurt Angleus looked sullen. "Maybe it's all made up like Jericho's cult, maybe you're screwing over everyone's hopes and dreams, maybe…"  
  
"Thankyou." Said Trish with a glare. "Now, if you'd kindly shut your mouth, I'd like to get this finished some point today. That one." She gestured the old man. "Move him into position now Kurt."  
  
Kurt pulled a face, then bowed sarcastically. "Yes your highness."  
  
"You will so pay for that when I'm Empress." Growled Trish, stepping forward. The old rebel was pushed in front of her.  
  
"We've survived worse than you!" The old man wheezed. "We survived through Syxx's raids!"  
  
"Syxx? He was like, a total amateur!" Trish snapped, shocked they'd even dare comparing her to Syxx. "Oh, you are so dead now." And he was. His head rolled along the ground, and Trish fought the strange urge to kick it. "Well come on, hurry it up. Positions people, focus, focus. Jericho-dammit, you'd think I was the only one here who knows how to stage a massacre properly." Kurt Angleus said something disparaging under his breath; Trish spun. "And don't think I didn't hear that, mister! Just for that, when you're done, you'll bring me Syxx!"  
  
Kurt Angleus paused, scratched his head, and looked at Trish blankly. "Syxx is dead."  
  
"Well, duh." Trish muttered. "Like getting him undead will be a problem, happens all the damn time. You'll pop down to Hell after this and bring me Syxx. I want to show the little shit how totally better than him I am." She paused. "Then you'll go and get me a fruit juice from the Epic-Mart. Murder is thirsty work."  
  
Kurt sighed as he lopped the head of a peasant. "Whatever."  
  
***  
  
Taker was bored, hideously bored. Sitting on the very cool rock, in the very smoke and flame free hell, he practiced rolling his eyes back into his head for about the millionth time since he'd arrived down here. He sighed; he kind of missed Tartarus. Whoever would've imagined hell would be this lame?  
  
Syxx, who had eventually managed to regain some of his original swagger after being impaled on an oversized toothpick, came waltzing into the pit, carrying an issue of the 'Hell Times'. Taker, who was never known for his manners, snatched it off the evil spawn of Tori, flipped through the pages and grunted.  
  
"Where the hell is the Chyna scroll?"  
  
Syxx looked at him with a smug face. "That's mine."  
  
"Dammit, give it to me now you little fucker." Taker growled, unrolling his eyes. "That's the only reason I damn subscribe to this thing. Now hand it over."  
  
Syxx sighed. "They're boring. They're stupid. I don't know why you even bother." Pulling the scroll from his tight leather trousers, he threw it at the Undertaker. Syxx muttered to himself, wishing he had a tasty beverage and an ancient Greek crumpet as he snatched the cross word puzzle before Taker could utter a word. Taker hummed and haaed at the scroll.  
  
"Hmmm, apparently Chyna is the Champion of the cult of HBK. I mean, isn't that just typical?"  
  
"Obsessed much?" Syxx snapped.  
  
"I am not." Taker said throatily. He went back to his reading. "Trish Stratus? She's the kind of scum who's replaced me. I mean, what ever happened to quality evil."  
  
"She's racked up your body count." Syxx drawled, pointing at a bar graph. Taker eyed it.  
  
"What?! No fair!" He frowned. "For the love of evil, it took me forever to kill three thousand, two hundred and twenty seven peasants. Then I get inconvenienced like this and some dumb blond in a pair of…red spandex pants comes along…oh, someone kill me."  
  
"Don't tease me!" Syxx squealed.  
  
***  
  
Kurt Angleus Maximus came staggering into hell, causing Syxx to look up from his crossword in disdain. He rolled his eyes.  
  
"Please find another pit." Said the obviously suicidal Syxx. Kurt thrust out his chest as if his nipples were attached to a pair of charging elephants.  
  
"I'm here to take you out of hell!" He declared, eyeing the flame and smoke free hell with a curious glance. "This is hell, isn't it? I mean, I took directions from some dying peasant in a village. Kept poking him with a stick until he told me whether he saw a light or not." He scratched his ear. "Now that's true."  
  
Syxx stared at Angleus blankly. "Hell is a smoke free zone."  
  
"Well, not what I would've expected." He shrugged. "Okay Mr. Evil Pants, let's go."  
  
Syxx rose, dropping his demonic crossword and looking uncharacteristically surprised. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. One…who are you? Two…who do you think you are? Three…what is with the outfit, I mean, that's bad. I don't need proof you shave your legs."  
  
Kurt strode forward. "I am your Olympic hero, Kurt Angleus Maximus! Trish Stratus wants to see you. It's dark times, dark times."  
  
"What, HBK Vs. Jericho?" Syxx giggled. "Evil has slid downhill so fast it has splinters stuck in its ass. Now in my day…" He grimaced. "Godsdammit, I'm two next Wednesday. So much for opportunities for the youth! Aw, fuck it. I haven't got anything to lose. Maybe I can restore HHH and Shane O Mac and start another dark empire or something…"  
  
"That's the spirit!" Kurt said enthusiastically.  
  
***  
  
Chyna had no idea how she did it, but Trish Stratus had managed to make a mass crucifixion look more ugly than it needed to be; it almost looked as if Billy Gunn had come along after she was finished and did some last minute 'Good Morning Atlantis' decorating. Eyeing the revolting yellow signs underneath each cross, she read.  
  
'Rome needs no Chyna.'  
  
Well thank gods for that! Chyna thought, glad that the responsibility of Rome needing her had been lifted, before realizing that she never had that responsibility in the first place. Kitty looked strangely disturbed, and Road Dogg and X-Pac seemed out of place. Yeah, badly decorated executions are my field alone, I guess. Which is weird in its own right.  
  
A pathetic coughing was heard, before a globule of spit came hurling forwards and striking X-Pac in the forehead; with a cry, he was lying flat on his ass on the ground. Chyna stared at him for a moment, before the pitiful coughing sounded again.  
  
"…Damn…"  
  
Another spit wad came flying forward, considerably smaller and slower than the first, this time hitting Road Dogg in the eye. The hacking became louder as Road Dogg wiped the loogie from his cornea in disdain. Chyna sighed and strode forward, to find the old half dead woman known only as the spitter.  
  
"Are you Chyna?" She mumbled. Chyna considered her answer.  
  
"If I say yes, are you gonna spit on me?" The old woman shook her head. "Then…yes, I am Chyna." Of course the splatter of saliva striking her on the cheek wasn't totally unexpected, but it wasn't overly pleasant either. Chyna wiped it off her cheek and then wiped it onto X-Pac.  
  
"The bimbo killed my family!" The spitter shrieked. "My husband, my children! When I asked why, she said 'ask Chyna'. Why Chyna, why, why?"  
  
"Well how the fuck am I supposed to know?" Chyna muttered in reply. "What am I, her mother?"  
  
"Bad response." Sighed Kitty.  
  
Chyna sighed, walking through the crosses and unceremoniously leaning on one, not enjoying the odour around her as the corpses formerly known as the village had been sitting in the sun all morning. Chyna figured she was going to have to cut them down sooner or later. Well, her sidekick would anyway.  
  
"Cut them down." Said Chyna. "Cut them all down."  
  
"Lazy, lazy, lazy." Kitty muttered, shoving X-Pac and Road Dogg into action. Chyna sat down underneath the cross and yawned. She wouldn't mind a map.  
  
Inexplicably, Taker popped up out of nowhere.  
  
"Hoo boy." Chyna said with an ominous look. "It's just gonna be one of these days."  
  
Taker stared down at the Warrior Princess. "Well, I'd expect more of a reaction than THAT."  
  
Chyna pulled a face. "Earth to Taker, have you been noticing what I've been going through lately." She rose to face her half brother. "Hell, I knew it was only a matter of time before you showed. Now where's Syxxy Wixie?"  
  
"He's gone to meet Trish Stratus for some obscure reason." Taker shrugged. "I find her really pretentious. She's up to my death toll, can you believe that?" Taker pouted and crossed his arms.  
  
"Ha. Jealous much?"  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"Oh come on Taker, if anyone found out that the Kontiki Tour thing was just all made up by Austin in the bar at the kingdom of Ass, your toll would plummet." Chyna gave an unpleasant smile. "Do you realize how simple it'd be to just let that 'slip' to Kitty? You'd be screwed dead man, sce-REWED."  
  
"Bitch." He muttered, before looking around the village. "Although, got to admit, Trish does do some nice work. Nothing on me, of course…"  
  
"Oh, of course." Chyna muttered. "Now, is there a point to this visit? I'm a tad busy, some prophecy shattering to do, some cults to destroy, you know, the usual."  
  
"Nah." Taker shrugged. "Some Roman dick left the portal to hell open. Figured I'd slip out for lunch 'till Satan figured I was gone and dragged me back. Maybe I'll try start another dark evil empire, that kind of thing, but food's first, I'm fucking starving!" He scratched his nose. "I figure I should try catch up with Helmsley at some stage, you know, kick him up the ass, punish him for being the weak pathetic brother he is."  
  
"Yeah, he's tethered in the stables in Thrace."  
  
Taker stared at Chyna blankly, whom was walking back towards her friends, taking extra special care to avoid the spitter. "C'mon, let's go."  
  
"Shouldn't we…?" X-Pac begun, gesturing the crosses. Chyna raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Nah, it's the circle of life, you know?" She looked at the sun. "And anyway, I'm hungry. You coming Taker, my treat."  
  
Kitty, X-Pac and Road Dogg gaped as Taker stepped towards Chyna. "Well, as long as you're paying, I think I can stand your sickening presence for an afternoon. Muhahahahaha…"  
  
Chyna gave a dark smile. "I figured as much." Eh, I've missed the big evil dope.  
  
***  
  
Syxx sat in Trish's active camp as the bimbo chugged wine from the wineskin like there was no tomorrow; he figured that the woman had taken a little too much wine, judging by her rampant advances on the pretty boy and the momma's boy. (Being Jericho and Angleus.) No denying it, he was really bored. So bored he figured slurping up a little of Trish's alcohol while she was passed out under a wagon wouldn't be too bad an idea. Obviously, Jericho and Kurt had had the same thought.  
  
"Fuck off, Jerky." Came Jericho's voice as he staggered from the scrub. Syxx peered into the darkness as Jericho bounded out, followed hotly by Kurt in the criminally Roman mini skirt.  
  
"Well hi guys." He muttered. "You know, if I was still in my evil prime I would've blasted you two to tiny bits by now. Fortunately for you…" He paused to look at the wineskin. "I'm reaaaaally drunk."  
  
"Shove off." Said Jericho, who was obviously in a pretty bad mood. "All of you. I'm the Messiah, and you will bow down to me!"  
  
Kurt fell to one knee; Syxx burped as delicately as he could.  
  
"You have no idea!" Syxx sighed. "HBK dammit, you should've seen MY empire. It was nothing on this feeble attempt. Probably because you're a mere mortal, I suppose."  
  
"Oh yeah, look at you! You look inexplicably like that skinny doofus Chyna hangs out with!" Jericho snapped in reply, snatching the wineskin off Syxx and gulping.  
  
"That's not my fault!" Syxx retorted. "He's my freaking father! At least I'm not some lowly mortal."  
  
Jericho snorted. "Lowly mortal my ass. You're as lowly as the next jerk- wad, like this one bowing to me right here, hey Jerky?"  
  
Kurt, whom had been on one knee sweeping down regally for quite some time, rose and sat next to Jericho. "I would really appreciate not being called 'Jerky'. It's not very cool of you."  
  
"Sooo sorry." Said Jericho with a roll of his eyes, as Kurt pulled out what appeared to be a small glass of milk, which he sipped upon. Syxx's eyes bugged.  
  
"Oh, I really must be overtaking this cult soon." He scoffed. "And you say you're as good as me? Look at your cronies! I mean, I think that Helmsley made a better servant than this…what was it, jerk-wad?"  
  
"Quit it." Kurt's lip quibbled. "I'm not a cronie, I'm a centurion!"  
  
Syxx sighed. "Chyna will be stopping you in no time."  
  
"Chyna this, Chyna that, Chyna, Chyna, Chyna…" Jericho looked cocky. "If you had your ass beat by Chyna, then you really do suck. You should've seen me at the Olympics, I beat her ass so bad, she was just crying for mercy. And in Egypt, I had her lying in the Tombs of Stratuspatra, playing soccer with her head. I broke down her walls, baby you know I'm Judas and I'm your priest…" Jericho paused. His outburst had made him a little sleepy. Syxx stared at Jericho.  
  
"You're an idiot."  
  
Kurt seemed to be working up something to say, before he leapt to his feet. "Damn it all, I can't keep it to myself anymore. Jericho is not the Messiah! And you're not my priest, and he's certainly not that Judas fellow. I believe his name is X-Pac."  
  
"Syxx." Syxx forced through clenched teeth.  
  
"Ha, ha ha ha." Jericho giggled hardily. "Piffle my good man. I'm as much as the Messiah as I ever was. He inexplicably does resemble X-Pac. But I am the Messiah."  
  
"No way you're not!" Kurt squealed, rising to his feet and showing his legs. "Trish made it all up! To think I worshipped you! Would the real Messiah call a man of my stature 'Jerky'?"  
  
"You're barely a man at all." Said Syxx testily, who then formed a tiny fireball and launched it towards the ponytail sitting lopsidedly on the top of Jericho's head. "I've been wanting to do that for hours."  
  
Jericho's hair ignited very well, and within moments he was dashing around in small circles beating his head with his hand. "Put it out!" He shrieked, waving his fist at Syxx. "You demonic little bastard!"  
  
Kurt sipped his milk. "Perhaps I'll join the Cult of HBK instead."  
  
"Nah, let's assassinate Booker T. Caesar in the Senate and take over Rome. It'll be great for some laughs."  
  
"But I'M the Messiah!" Jericho squeaked, his hair flaming like the fiery tail of a comet as he ran past. Syxx giggled, before rising and walking in his semi-demonic manner.  
  
"Suppose I should visit mom." He sighed. "She'll get all antsy if I don't." He sighed again. "Coming Jerky?"  
  
"I suppose." Sighed Angleus, looking forlorn. Jericho, who was finally put out, bounded towards them. Syxx sighed.  
  
"You coming, smokey?"  
  
"I don't appreciate your jabs at my predicament." Said Jericho haughtily, his blackened ponytail letting out a dull 'fizzle' before dropping off. "But then again, Chyna does want to kill me. And you can probably kill her. So let's go!"  
  
***  
  
Chyna looked at the temple as she made towards it the next morning. Well, apparently this was the temple of HBK. Hunter gave an impressed kind of snort, X-Pac and Road Dogg looked slightly embittered and Kitty seemed to have found some henbane on the way, because she had another supply of cookies on her and was munching on them with a wide smile. As a matter of fact, the smile remained even when Trish Stratus came charging from the temple with a really pissed look.  
  
"Are you trying to do ANOTHER crucifixion?" Chyna said in a bored tone. "Come on, do something different for a change."  
  
Trish, who was standing in front of a large pile of garish crosses, looked skanky. "And are you going to stop me?"  
  
"Well…" Said Chyna, pulling out the broad sword she had swiped from the arena. "Yeah. Duh."  
  
Trish shrieked and came hurtling forward in a huge flying red spandex kick combo, which did jack-shit seeming Chyna caught one of these red spandex covered legs and sent her slamming into the hard, rocky ground. Trish grunted and flailed, blond hair cascading and clutching her ass. Road Dogg's brow furrowed.  
  
"She…she looks like Mr. Ass."  
  
"Shit man, that's scary." X-Pac commented.  
  
Syxx popped in. "Yeah, let's go Chyna! Kill her!" He looked at her on the ground. "She really looks a lot like that Billy Gunn idiot, you know that? Hey, is this a cat fight?" A corn cob appeared in a fizz of purple sparkles, which he zapped with a small fireball. Popcorn flew everywhere.  
  
"It's about time you showed up, you demonic little bastard." Chyna snapped, kicking Trish in the head. "Taker came and saw me yesterday. Tried to kill me with a fork over lunch. We had salad." Chyna looked casual as she hauled Stratus to her feet and sent her flying with a killer clothesline.  
  
"Well sorry." Said Syxx sarcastically, ignoring the goggling looks of X- Pac. "I've been busy. Jericho-dammit, I just got out of hell. Not to mention I had to visit mom. I don't have time to kill you straight away."  
  
"Well you should!" Chyna snapped back, punching Trish in the head about five hundred times. "Look at the evil that's been around here lately. Would you just look at it?"  
  
"Yeah, I know, I know." Said Syxx dramatically. "She had the audacity to call ME an amateur! Well just wait till you see my latest evil plot bitch! Muahahahaha!" Syxx fell to cackling, before looking at X-Pac. "Yo pops."  
  
X-Pac waved slowly, then Syxx vanished. Trish had risen to her feet, screaming, and leaping on Hunter, she made an attempt to flee. HBK for some completely unknown reason, descended from Mt. Sexy Boy and restored HHH. Chyna gave him a glare.  
  
"You didn't have to do that." She growled. "She wasn't going anywhere. She doesn't possess any apples."  
  
"Ooooh…" Said Hunter lolling underneath Stratus, who had leapt to her feet, kicked HHH in the head and made her great escape. Chyna stared at her restored ex-sidekick and dubious worst enemy laid out on the ground, his hair looking a complete wreck. "My hair, my hair…" Was all that Hunter could utter.  
  
"Don't tell me you haven't missed being a bitch to him." Said Shawn indignantly. "He was the perfect, shit taking sidekick. Not like miss Henbane over here. I'm so proud."  
  
"Yeah!" Hunter agreed suddenly from the ground. "I mean, I've been watching her. You cannot say that she is a better sidekick than I was. I mean, honestly, I am the Game!"  
  
"Yeah, right." Kitty snorted, inhaling another cookie.  
  
X-Pac raised his hand timidly. "Um…Chyna, what is going on? You've been being nice to Jericho. You did lunch with Taker and abused Syxx for not trying to murder you. You…you're being civil to HHH! I'd hate to see Jeff Jarrett show right now, you'd probably marry him."  
  
"Now that's taking it too far!" Chyna snarled, flicking him in the head. "It's just that I hate Trish. That's all. I hate Trish to the point where I miss the forces of evil. Is that so bad?"  
  
"Nah." Said Road Dogg. "I miss quality evil. You'd miss it too, living with Aysa and Billy Gunn."  
  
Hunter looked like he was about to cry. Rushing forward, he caught Chyna, Road Dogg, X-Pac and Kitty in an enormous group hug. "You think I'm quality evil? I love you guys!"  
  
Shawn swiped a tear. "That is so beautiful. Now onwards! Onwards to die in my name!"  
  
Chyna shot him a dark look around Hunter's arm. Shawn gave a hesitant grin.  
  
"I mean…death to Trish?"  
  
"Damn fucking right." Was Chyna's reply.  
  
***  
  
Kitty knew instinctively what she had done was stupid. Pulling weakly at her restraints as she stood bound in the middle of Trish's camp, she figured breaking free of Chyna's campsite in the middle of the night despite the whinings of Road Dogg whom she'd woken, sneaking down to the Base in Thrace unarmed and demanding of Trish 'where's your infinite love?!', was probably the most stupid, henbane effected idea she'd ever had. Why was it all Chyna's arch enemies always reacted so violently?  
  
And now she had to wager whether Chyna was going to rescue her before Trish got bored and hacked her to pieces; although she had managed to convince her that spilling her guts from one end of the camp to the other would make a more stirring visual statement if Chyna was there to see it. Fat chance Chyna was going to show any time soon though, she was probably asleep. Typical. Lazy, lazy, lazy.  
  
"Kitty…" She heard the hiss and turned around as far as she could considering the fact she was tied to a pair of poles. Always with the rope and poles! She thought bitterly as she spotted Road Dogg hiding in the bushes.  
  
"Well it's about time." Kitty muttered. "Get me out of here!"  
  
"Manners!" Road Dogg griped as he crept forward and started sawing at her restraints. Which didn't last long because Kitty had failed to mention that she was the bait in the not so elaborate trap, and within a few seconds Trish had sprung out, grabbed Road Dogg by the hair and floored him. Trish stood over him; Kitty bit her lip and Road Dogg whimpered piteously.  
  
"You die now!" Trish shrieked, pulling her sword out. Kitty struggled bombastically, fully aware it was achieving nothing.  
  
"Noooooo!" She shrieked. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch."  
  
"You're telling me this now?" Road Dogg demanded as Trish prepared to lop his head off.  
  
"Yeah, because you're about to die."  
  
"Better late than never." He mumbled, as Trish raised her sword…  
  
To Be Continued… 


	4. The End of an Era

Chyna: Warrior Princess  
  
Episode IIX: The End of an Era  
  
Disclaimer: The characters here belong to Titan Sports and Vince. Syxx belongs to me. Jesus Christ belongs to himself, or at least I think he does.  
  
  
  
In a time of ancient gods, warlords and kings, a land in turmoil cried out for a hero. She was Chyna, an alcoholic stoner forged in the heat of low blows. The power, the passion, the danger…her courage will do tiddly squat.  
  
Road Dogg is about to get the chop. 'Nuff said.  
  
Trish swung her sword about in bizarre patterns, Road Dogg cowering pathetically at the level of her red spandex slacks as she well and truly prepared to brutally murder him. Except it never happened; Chyna came staggering into the camp with X-Pac, looking suspiciously damp. Chyna was smoking an ancient joint and with a really awkward looking fling, the Chakram came hurtling towards Trish's weapon, sending it smacking into the earth. Kitty's eyes narrowed.  
  
"You're smoking my henbane, aren't you?"  
  
"Yours?" Chyna laughed, passing the joint to X-Pac for a toke. "Fuck off Kitty. Fuck off and die."  
  
"Ha, you can't possibly mean that, you've just come to rescue me!" Kitty said, still thrusting away bombastically on her restraints. Chyna paused.  
  
"Too right. Ah well." She turned to Trish. "Don't. Touch. The. Dogg."  
  
Trish was looking rather scary, but Chyna was pretty uncaring at this point. Hunter suddenly appeared on the hill, noticed Trish and her large sword, and disappeared again. He also was looking quite wet.  
  
"Were you having a bath with X-Pac and Hunter?" Kitty squealed. "And you didn't invite me?"  
  
"Yeah, well you weren't there." Chyna retorted unevenly. "That'll teach you to go and do all that hippie crap and search for the infinite love with a bimbo with shocking fashion sense." Chyna paused for breath, amazed that all that came out as clearly as it did. X-Pac raised the joint.  
  
"Yo-ho."  
  
Trish scrunched up her face and ran the Dogg through anyway. He grasped at the hole in his stomach, but Trish then kicked him in the head. He went to grasp that, but then she stomped him in the balls. He then decided to give up on a 'grasping-dramatic-death' and resigned to lying there.  
  
"You let me get stabbed!" He accused.  
  
"She did! She did!" Trish giggled.  
  
Chyna decided to hack Kitty's restraints. Why, she didn't know, she'd probably kick the poor bastard while he was down. But Kitty fell to her knees and shook Road Dogg insanely instead. He coughed feebly.  
  
"Excuse me, I'm dying here!" He snapped. "Quit shaking me!"  
  
X-Pac managed to pull the bard off, and smacked her in the back of the head. Road Dogg gave that a thumbs up. Chyna smiled.  
  
"If I were dying I'd wanna see that too."  
  
Trish shrugged and left. She had a packed schedule, although she did enjoy watching Kitty getting a whack upside the back of the head. Little infinite love seeking hippie shit.  
  
X-Pac and Chyna were squatting around the Dogg now, Kitty laid out almost as dramatically as he was. He grasped Chyna's hand for support.  
  
"Why Road Dogg, why?" Chyna demanded.  
  
"…I didn't want to disappoint you."  
  
"Then you should've let Kitty die!" Chyna said, toking on some more henbane. Road Dogg shrugged weakly.  
  
"That really does make sense. Of course, you are stoned and no doubt drunk."  
  
"She'd be saying it sober, trust me." Said X-Pac knowingly, swiping at a tear. "Ya want some Henbane? It's good shit."  
  
"Yeah, okay." Road Dogg wheezed feebly, taking a drag on the joint. "Hey, was' the matter with you guys…I feel a little cold, but it doesn't hurt anymore."  
  
"That's because you're stoned out of your brain." Said Chyna, gripping his hand for support. "You've still got the gaping hole in your gut."  
  
"Well thanks for bursting my bubble." Muttered Road Dogg, falling back limply. Chyna, despite herself, started wailing. Road Dogg opened one eye. "Wait…I'm still dying. Nope, there I go." And he fell back limply again.  
  
"We should take him home." Said Chyna nobly. "Or second to that, bury him here and grab a bite."  
  
"He would've wanted it that way." Bawled X-Pac.  
  
***  
  
  
  
"Is this what it means to follow the Cult of HBK? I knew my courage would be tested, but never like this." X-Pac said later in the day, as they sat in the tub yet again. Kitty frowned.  
  
"You want that cup of wine?"  
  
"Yes." X-Pac said silkily, pulling it closely to his chest. "After this, we are gonna go kick Trish's red spandex covered ass."  
  
"It takes courage to walk the path of infinite love and do nothing all the time." Said Kitty wisely, pulling the Buddha face. "Ask yourself, is kicking the crap out of Trish what HBK wants?" She continued, still eyeing the wine.  
  
"Yes!" X-Pac said in exasperation. You're confused! Jericho stands for the infinite love, remember? Jericho! Wrong deity. That means we have full karmic privileges to go kill Trish, kay?"  
  
Chyna listened to the conversation, and yawned. She still really hadn't made a recovery from the drug intake earlier. Syxx suddenly popped in.  
  
"Pops is pissed." He stated. Chyna couldn't help it; she flicked him in the head.  
  
"Go away now."  
  
"He shouldn't hate Trish though, should he? It's you he should hate."  
  
"Why the fuck should he hate me?"  
  
Syxx stopped to think. "Well I don't know, I'm just trying to create some tension here. Quit making me tense!" He popped out again with a very sour look on his face. Chyna turned to face Kitty. "I never thought it would be my friend."  
  
"It's not your fault." Kitty said. Chyna nodded.  
  
"Nah, it's yours. Gotta go with that."  
  
"No more henbane cookies!" Kitty squealed. Chyna grunted in reply, before looking up at the sky. She made sure Kitty was no longer listening, but figuring that was going to be impossible, she rose and walked to an open field, where she happened to come across a very strangely shaped tree. Sipping delicately at her Steveweiser, she addressed the heavens.  
  
"HBK, wherever you are, I know you can hear me." Little shit's probably at a strip tavern. Chyna thought bitterly. "Having a little trouble understanding your already vague message, okay? Throw me a frikkin' bone here. Where is all this infinite love shit, c'mon, I want answers here." When her prayer went unanswered, Chyna balled her fist, swore and flipped off a cloud. "Where's your infinite love?!"  
  
***  
  
Syxx watched Booker T. Caesar fall to the floor casually. He'd taken about two hundred stabs – Syxx wasn't really expecting the whole damn senate to jump in once he'd stabbed him once. It was surprising that they were ALL carrying daggers in their bed sheets. Jericho looked at his body on the cold marble floor.  
  
"Now what?"  
  
"Well, we could kill the rest of the senate and take all Rome's money." He shrugged. "Eh, there is no money. It all goes into funding these horrible crosses that Trish orders. How 'bout we just kill the old farts anyway?"  
  
"Zero interest." Jericho muttered, kicking lightly at the body. The senate cheered.  
  
"Kick him again." One shouted. Jericho shrugged and kicked him again.  
  
"I know, wanna go kill Chyna?" Syxx suggested, ignoring the applause Jericho was getting for kicking about a stiff. "We can order it done now. You know, nice tidy little crucifixion?" He sighed. He was gonna love this emperor gig.  
  
"Yeah, suppose." Said Jericho. "Then can I have another cult? Pleeeeeease?"  
  
"Yeah, alright, just stop whining!" Syxx muttered as the whole senate started to kick Booker T. Caesar's lifeless form. Syxx rose his eyebrows. Jeez, never figured they hated him that much. Although hearing the word 'sucka' in every second sentence for about five years would get a tad annoying.  
  
***  
  
The two crosses were close. Chyna, despite the pain she felt, couldn't help but be pissed off. Little fucker Syxx just had her crucified next to the one person she's specifically requested to be placed at least thirty feet from. Little fucker had nailed her on a yellow cross that bore a great big pair of luscious lips on the top. Little fucker had stationed Kurt Angleus Maximus to watch her until she kicked it.  
  
"Chyna…" Kitty gasped. Chyna rolled her eyes and looked over painfully.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Remember when I said I loved you and all?"  
  
Chyna shuddered. "Yeah Kitty, it was about thirty seconds ago."  
  
"Well, I decided that I didn't mean it."  
  
Chyna didn't know whether to be relieved or hurt. Eventually she went with being relieved, but sounding hurt. "Gee, thanks Kitty. Here I am, nailed to a cross because of you, and all you can do is take back the 'I love you' you gave me not even a minute after saying it. Real nice!"  
  
"How is this my fault?" Kitty spat back.  
  
"Christ, you're the one who waved at Syxx and said 'here we are, give us some infinite love'. I've had it with infinite love! I've had it! I've had it."  
  
Kurt Angleus Maximus looked up. "'Scuse me and all miss Warrior Princess, but who's Christ?"  
  
Chyna paused. "I have no idea. But I have a feeling he's gonna be big."  
  
Taker popped in. "You know, you're right to blame her Chyna. She's a complete bitch!"  
  
"You butt out of this!" Kitty shrieked, fighting the urge to kick him in the head. But it was tempting. Taker leaned against Kitty's crucifix as Hunter came strolling up the snowy hill.  
  
"What is this, a reunion?" Chyna sighed. Hunter waved and stood at the base of Chyna's crucifix, Taker giving him a very dark look and suddenly levitated to Chyna's level. It looked strangely natural.  
  
"You can fly?" Chyna said incredulously. Taker raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Well, it's surprising the hell out of me too."  
  
***  
  
Syxx, trudging through the snow with Jericho, came across the crosses. Squinting, he found it odd that Taker floating above the ground engaging in conversation with Chyna looked really normal. He sighed as Jericho came skipping towards them.  
  
"Hey Chyna! Hey Kitty!"  
  
Chyna painfully flexed her nailed hand a few times in a wave, before looking at Taker. "Uh, hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you're sinking towards that crack in the earth."  
  
"Wha…?" Taker started, looking down to see a hairline fracture that was gradually getting bigger. "Blast it all!" He muttered as he was sucked back down into the abyss. Syxx looked pale.  
  
"Screw you Satan!" He squealed as he too disappeared into the gaping maw of the earth. Kitty looked most satisfied.  
  
"Jeez, talk about rude." Chyna muttered. "Didn't even say goodbye."  
  
"Well that's okay, coz I was thinking about saving you two anyway." Jericho suddenly said. "Well, you anyway, Chy. I'm not too sure about this one. She's pretty scary, how do you cope with it?"  
  
"Drugs." Said Chyna flatly. "Lots of drugs."  
  
"She is scary, isn't she?" Commented Hunter, who was casually sitting crossed legged underneath Chyna's garish 'Mr. Ass' cross, munching on snowflakes. "So not a lady."  
  
"And like you are." Kitty snarled. Hunter turned a bright shade of pink.  
  
"I'd kill you if you weren't already dying a slow and painful death!" He squealed. Jericho giggled.  
  
"Good one!"  
  
"Surrounded by bimbos." Chyna said mournfully. "What a way to die."  
  
She barely noticed X-Pac and Kane walking slowly up the hill; when she did notice, she considered waving, until she realised that she was totally too lazy. It was her prerogative, she was dying horribly after all. Kitty looked sullen when X-Pac looked up at her.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Well what?" He asked.  
  
"Aren't you gonna get me down from here?"  
  
X-Pac looked thoughtful. "You know, I don't have to. If it wasn't for you, Road Dogg would be alive right now. That kinda pisses me off. Plus, if you talk about infinite love one more time…"  
  
While X-Pac ranted and raved, Kane walked over to Chyna and looked up at her. "Can I ask you something?" He said quietly.  
  
"Like what? Ask me to kill someone?" Chyna tried to ball her fist. "I'm nailed to a cross here! Get over it!"  
  
"Nah, did she do the whole whiny love thing?" He dragged a ladder forward. "I mean, I was hoping I'd get here before she said that."  
  
"You came too late." Said Chyna bitterly. But then she smiled. "On the bright side, she took it right back the moment she said it!"  
  
"Cool!" Said Kane, looking over to notice X-Pac flicking Kitty repeatedly in the head from his ladder.  
  
"How do you think I like it? Huh?" He shrieked. Kitty bit down into his finger, and with a girly scream 'Pac had fallen backwards to land in a crumpled heap. Chyna could be very sure Kane had just pulled a very amusing expression of shock as he finally managed to pull her off the cross. The Big Red Machine turned when he felt a tap on the shoulder.  
  
"Look, I'd hate to be a wet blanket and all," Began Kurt. "But I'm gonna have to ask you to nail her right back up there. I must say, it wasn't very cool of you to come along and take her down without asking me first." He looked expectant. "So you can just put her right back up. It's true. It's damn true."  
  
Kurt literally pissed his pants when Kane grabbed him by the throat and delivered the tombstone. Chyna gave a smile that lit up the entire execution site, before turning to address Jericho.  
  
"One question Chrissy…why the hell were you going to save me?"  
  
"Well, I've just inherited Rome." He shrugged. "I was thinking maybe you'd wanna come along and be my empress. Otherwise I'd be stuck with Trish." He shuddered. Trish. What a horrible thought.  
  
"I'd go for it Chyna." Said Hunter. "And maybe, just maybe, one day I could be your sidekick again."  
  
"Don't even go there." Said Kitty coldly.  
  
"Quiet you." Added X-Pac.  
  
Chyna seemed to be thinking things over. Eventually, she came to a decision. "Sure, what the hell. I mean, what have I really got to lose anyway. Empress of Rome, Hunter as my sidekick…" She paused at Kitty's furious look. "A permanently doped up Kitty. It could work."  
  
"Me and Chyna could be like a mother and father to you!" Jericho said gleefully to the bard. Kitty looked very pale. Hunter shot Jericho an odd look, as did Kane. The awkward silence was finally broken when Kitty managed to regain some composure.  
  
"Well, are you gonna get me down from here or what?"  
  
"I suppose we should save her." Said Hunter, not sounding entirely convinced. The bard screwed up her face.  
  
"Damn right you're going to!"  
  
With a mighty fling from her Chakram, Chyna miraculously unpicked the nails on both Kitty's hands and feet, caught her as she fell and recaptured the weapon. Looking into Chyna's eyes, Kitty stared intently.  
  
"What?" Said Chyna suspiciously. Kitty continued to stare.  
  
"I think I changed my mind. I still love you, Chy-NA."  
  
"Whoah, double whammy!" Said Kane, who had become quite the verbal one of late.  
  
Chyna stared back at Kitty. Could it be possible, just remotely possible, that she loved Kitty too?  
  
"Don't you love me too, Chy-NA?" Asked Kitty with a pout. "Just a little bit?"  
  
Chyna slapped her hand over her mouth. "God dammit, I do."  
  
***  
  
An hour later, they were all sitting in the bath back in the Base in Thrace; when things turned weird, jumping in the bath with a bunch of friends, former enemies and relatives always seemed to be the answer. Chyna had become drunk almost immediately this time, and was having a great time taking turns in dunking Jericho and Hunter under the water and holding them there for as long as she was able. Kane, who was still in his mask, watched the scene unfold as X-Pac repeatedly flicked Kitty in the head. Suddenly and unexpectedly, Trish Stratus, Champion of Rome, came barging into the room. No one looked surprised.  
  
"What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" Trish demanded, her tone like ice. "Weren't you crucified?!"  
  
"Yup." Said Chyna, raising her hand to show her the nice little puncture mark before flipping her off with the same hand. Then she shrugged. "But now I'm the Empress of Rome. Go figure. And I don't think I've quite defrosted yet, either. It was really cold out there."  
  
"What?" Trish screeched. "No way! I'm the Empress of Rome." She paused. "Is it just me…or are you all sitting in a bath tub together?"  
  
"It's not just you." Said X-Pac.  
  
"Well shit." Said Trish. "Thanks for ruining my life ambition Chyna. And have I mentioned lately that you suck?!"  
  
"I'm sure someone mentioned it at some point." Chyna replied. Kitty had been watching this woman with fascination.  
  
"Hey Trish, you looking for a sidekick?" She suddenly asked. Everyone turned and stared at her blankly. "Because you're a crazy physco, and apparently so am I. I think we'd do great together."  
  
Chyna looked dumbstruck. "I thought you said you loved me…again!"  
  
"Well I changed my mind again!"  
  
"Well fine!" Said Chyna, trying not to cry, before remembering that she didn't give a shit. "She's a henbane addict that talks in her sleep, Trish, gotta warn you."  
  
Trish shrugged. "Eh. Wanna go kill the Senate together?"  
  
"I so do!" Kitty squealed, and jumping out of the water, the two skipped off hand in hand together. Chyna watched them leave, before socking back another Steveweiser and lying back in the bath to prune.  
  
"You know, I think I like her less than I did before." Commented Hunter. He looked at Chyna with the wide eyed, puppy dog look. "How could you possibly replace me with her?"  
  
Chyna shrugged, then burped. "I let you die when you were supposed to. Just like I let Road Dogg die when he was supposed to." She looked suitably guilty. "X-Pac, Kane, you didn't just hear me say that, kay?"  
  
"I'm too drunk to care." Said X-Pac. "When I sober up, I'll probably hit you."  
  
"I'd react, but standing up would allow everyone to see my private parts." Explained Kane. Chyna rolled her eyes.  
  
"Where's your infinite love?"  
  
"Don't start that again." Kane said testily. "I've had about as much as I can take from the infinite love gig. How about going to get me a beer from the infinite supply behind you?"  
  
"I like the way you think." Said Chyna, chucking Kane a beer and dunking Jericho again for good measure. Shrugging, she'd figured she'd try and buzz HBK one more time before slipping into unconsciousness. She only hoped one of her friends would be nice enough to drag her from the tub before she drowned.  
  
"Yo, HBK." She said, looking up expectantly at the roof. X-Pac gave her a funny look, to which he received a good dunk. "Chyna here. Don't know what I was supposed to learn from this experience, I really don't. Had some weird visions, got nailed to a cross and got abandoned for a bimbo in red spandex." She paused. "Thanks a lot for that!"  
  
Tori's voice was suddenly heard. "HBK isn't at Mt. Sexy Boy right now. Try the Epic-Mart, the smarmy bastard's always hanging around there…"  
  
"Tori!" HBK's obviously prerecorded voice sounded.  
  
"So bite me. If you wanna have my evil spawn baby, leave a message and I'll get right back to you. If you're part of HBK's stupid cult, try an Epic- Mart, and if you're Chyna, shove off." A beep was heard, and then nothing more. Chyna's eyebrows rose.  
  
"Well that sucked." She muttered, before sliding into unconsciousness anyway.  
  
***  
  
Chyna hadn't really expected another vision, but she suspected alcohol to be the main causing factor. Not like the last one had been much help; she'd managed to give Billy Gunn a testicular claw, which didn't need prophesizing, managed to catch a glimpse of a pink frilly apron which Christian had been wearing later on and had Hunter tell her that he loved her in Kitty's exact tone of voice. Now that had been scary. This one was a little different though – there was a guy in a funny white frock and a halo above his head, who looked like he'd either been on the path of love too long or he was on henbane. Not like that surprised her. All these hippie shits were.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Chyna demanded, not in the mood for being polite. It was her vision, she'd be as rude as she liked.  
  
"Jesus Christ." The figure frowned. "You silly piece of fluff, how could you not know who I am?"  
  
Chyna caught a glimpse of Billy Gunn dancing past with what appeared to be the gay pride flag, but disregarded it. "Whattaya mean, how the hell am I supposed to know who you are." Chyna paused. "Although I did make a fleeting reference to you on my death bed. Go figure."  
  
"Oh damn, I've gone and done it again." Jesus sighed. "Gone and popped into someone's vision in the middle of BC I'm always doing this. So sorry."  
  
"Well at least you can tell me what you're meant to be." Chyna said, her arms crossed.  
  
"Well, I'm the Messiah. But never mind."  
  
"Another fucking Messiah?" Chyna muttered; Jesus never saw the low-blow coming, and fell to the floor; hey, her vision had a floor! Billy Gunn came dancing past for a second time, Road Dogg trudging after him. He paused.  
  
"Who's that?"  
  
Chyna pulled the halo of Jesus' head and spun it on her finger. "Another Messiah."  
  
"Christ!" He retorted. Chyna nodded.  
  
"Exactly!" Flinging the halo, she grinned when it smacked Billy in the head, rebounded off much like the Chakram, and returned to her. Billy disappeared in his usual puff of pink smoke. Road Dogg sighed.  
  
"I'm never appearing in one of your visions ever again." He muttered. "Floating around learning the mysteries of the universe and I end up here." He began muttering to himself and vanished, leaving Chyna staring at Jesus at her feet. And despite the stunning visual statement and the feeling that karma was going to pay her back big time for laying out the savior of the planet, Chyna knew that everything was going to be alright.  
  
The End. 


End file.
